The Wraith: Beginnings
by tacotack92
Summary: Thomas Dean Wilson had returned from the world after fifteen years around the world to Empire City with only one mission: to avenge the lives crime had stolen in his home. This is the story of his birth and his legacy as the Ethereal Guardian. (DC heroes will appear in later chapters as a cameo, or to advance the plot.)
1. The Wilson Scion

_A family was placed in danger one night upon an alley in Empire City, Oklahoma. Womanly cries to stop the horror before a terrible sound against the blade of the neck could be heard, just before the barrel of a revolver emptied a bullet into the head of a middle-aged man. A frail scarred child forced to watch, preparing for the worst until the police had arrived and the criminals responsible for taking his parents away fled._

Thomas remembered that terrible event, as he stood at the office of his company, Wilson Industries. It had been almost 15 years since that night, as the young man rested his hands on his chin. _I promise, Dad. I promise, Mom. I will do everything in my power to take everything from the corrupt in this city….like they took you from me._ "Excuse me, Mr. Wilson?" A sweet, feminine voice interrupted the thoughts of the twenty-six year old Wilson scion as the voice originated from a young blonde in her early 30s with green eyes and a round face. Glasses were well adjusted on her face, as she wore a blue blouse and a grey skirt; Thomas turned facing the secretary and smiled kindly to mask the pain he was thinking about. "The board is ready for you, sir." The secretary said with a smile, holding the door open as she gestured with the clipboard of analytics she was holding in her right hand. It took less than a second for Thomas to walk out the door; the secretary quickly shut the door behind him as they headed down a long hallway. Underneath the red carpet, their feet hurriedly scurried as not to attend the meeting so late. "I'd be careful if I were you, Mr. Wilson. Our current CEO, Mr. Sharpe, isn't very familiar with the term _fashionably late._ " Thomas scoffed, resting his hands in his pockets as he turned to the lady, and straightened his late. They stopped before the door at the end of the hallway which the meeting was taking place. How convenient that the meeting would attend at the same floor Thomas was working on. "Don't worry about the old man," He said confidently as he looked at her, reading her nametag. "Miss Bell, isn't it?" He winked before leaving, not seeing the blonde blush before going back to her desk to work.

Stephen Sharpe, CEO of Wilson International, glared angrily at Thomas Wilson who just entered the board room. Sharpe wasn't very fond of the boy's irresponsibility to attend most of the board's meeting the past two months. If it wasn't for Wilson's "activities", he could take his father's legacy seriously. "Mr. Wilson, you're lucky you're on time. Shall we begin this meeting?" He asked harshly, as Thomas shrugged sharply. "It's your company...for the time being that is, Mr. Sharpe," Thomas began with a smirk, "If I recall, my return to Empire City let this company's stock go up. It's gonna take more than your disapproval to keep me away, Steve." Mr. Sharpe then ignored this remark, buttoning up his suit before walking around the board members once Thomas took a seat.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Sharpe began, "Mr. Wilson returned to us two months ago to a broken city. Only three cities are just as broken as we are: Hub City, Gotham City, and Star City. But if we can all work together, we can make this city the crowning achievement it once was. Imagine our resources pooled into one specific brainchild: this company. The reason we began this meeting is to ponder, if Edward Wilson's son is truly ready for this responsiblity of the legacy that's waiting him." Thomas could feel the eyes of the board members eyeing him, then back to Sharpe. Thomas smiled simply, then rose. "With all due respect, ladies and gentlemen: I returned home for that exact purpose: to save Empire City from suffering. Though I lost my family in that suffering, I will not let my city go through the same," Thomas stated his case as he buttoned up his suit, "If nothing else, I'd like to go now. This is boring me." He stated bluntly, shooting a wink toward a seething Sharpe and then nodded to the board before leaving the room.

 _Well, that was fun, Tommy. We have to work on how we're getting this company back._ Thomas thought as he headed towards the elevator. _But that can wait for now. I have to get home, and begin what I came home for. Vengeance._

 _(Well, let me know how this chapter turned out! I promise to involve several DC characters in this story soon. Post your reviews, and I'll continue when I can. :) Thanks!)_


	2. The Legend Begins

**Chapter 2: The Legend Begins**

 _Thank you for the reviews and the read. This story is going to take me a while to finish. To those who requested Ra's al Ghul, Vandal Savage, or King Kull to make an appearance. They probably won't appear until later stories involving team-ups with my OC and DC Comics heroes. I appreaciate the read, though!_

 _Empire City, its splendor and tall building allow its beauty to shine under the moonlight; but don't let that fool you. It's brought up a new scale of corruption, crime rising at every turn. And no one's going to do a damn about it. Until now, I promised my parent's with one single mission: to punish those who commit crimes and prey upon the weak. To take away the lives the criminals took as they took my family from me. The city will hate me for it, I don't give a fuck. But they will be safe._

Thomas was in his thoughts as he was now in his penthouse, standing in the elevator leading up to the top floor. He had purchased this penthouse immediately upon the first week of his return home, not wanting to come back to his family home just yet. He felt it wasn't...roomy enough, compared to this twenty-nine story building. He didn't get through childhood and the pain alone, thanks to his friend and longtime assistant Blake Edwards. Edwards was a friend of his father's, and they served in ASIS together years ago; Thomas thought that was pretty cool, as Blake was the first person that taught him to defend himself before he even left Empire City. He reached the top floor, un-loosening his tie as he saw the elderly man work on installing a computer hub in the southwest corridor. "Hey, old man." Thomas greeted the man, walking over to pull off his jacket and set it on the counter, just before walking over to see what Blake was doing. Sporting workshop glasses around his eyes, he crinkled his wrinkly brows twisting some wires to the screen. "Mister Wilson," Blake spoke, nodding before continuing working on the hub, "it appears your meeting went just as planned?" The elderly man asked, as Thomas shook his head with a dry chuckle. "Oh, well, let's just say my family's company is glad I'm back but the CEO? _Not._ " Thomas said, deadpanned before moving towards the area where he kept his weapons. He analyzed the katana, the kusarigama, the shriuken, kunai, and the makibishi. He picked up a kunai, and threw it into the photo of a man in his mid-50s with a scowl. The man sported a white suit with a green tie with a similar colored handkerchief in his pocket. _Karl Martin, one of the most city's feared crime lords in Empire. He's been on my list since the day I began my research on this city. Rumors has it he's been working with scumbags like Maroni, and Bertenelli. He'd know something about my parents' death. They must have ticked someone as powerful as Martin off, I know there's a connection. Thomas Wilson alone can't save this city._ Thomas tuned out his thoughts, now admiring the kunai being spotted between the eyes of Karl Martin's picture and hummed with satisfaction.

 _But I know who can. And he's just getting started._

Meanwhile that night, back at Wilson Industries, the CEO Sharpe himself was in the office, sipping champagne just when the lights mysteriously shut off. The barrel of a gun was now pointed at Sharpe's neck. "I wouldn't move." A slight British accent spoke, before Sharpe froze in fear. "You haven't been in touch with us for some time, Mr. Sharpe. Are you forgetting your loyalty?" This caused Sharpe to stutter, trying to find his answer to speak. "No, s-sir," Sharpe managed to speak as his throat was becoming dry, terrified of this intruder, "we had an unfortunate incident. The Wilson boy returned. For a couple of months, he's been up to nothing we know of." The gun wielder then turned to gaze into Sharpe's eyes as he was sporting a mask that was navy blue, his eyes covered by a silver visor. He sported body armor that was black with his navy blue clothing. Wielding two swords behind his back, He aimed the gun at Sharpe. "That you know of." The wielder added mockingly. "I take my business seriously, Mr. Sharpe. I wonder if the big man knows you take yours very well. Unfortunately, he doubts you're truly committed to the cause. We can't have loose ends." This made Sharpe's eyes widen in fear, as the senior CEO couldn't believe what he was hearing just before a silenced gunshot hit him in the head. The wielder looked at his work with a sick smile under the mask, satisfied before disappearing into the shadows. "It is only beginning, Mr. Sharpe. This city will belong to us." His voice said, fading into darkness.

At a warehouse near the docks, a limousine was parked near the entrance along with three more vans. A meet between Martin's men and a few others were happening. "You think the boss is gonna make us sell these weapons, Dino?" One of the goons asked his lieutenant, known to the underworld as Dino Velvetti. "Just you watch, kid. This may be our finest job yet," Dino told his men, all ten of them. "The boss wants us to get this done, we'll get it done." Dino gave a smug smile, walking up to the podium as his men prepared the illegal military weapons for stock. "Greetings to all of you! Tonight, we have here an incredible opportunity to show you who owns this city! With our generous offer, we'd like to give you a taste of what these bitches can do." Dino said with a gesture to the weapons, confident that the three gangs sectioned around the city would consider their offer. Unknowingly to them, ears were listening in from the darkness as a figure was hanging on a platform perch above them, piercing white eyes looking down into the abyss. "What we have here is high-grade rocket launcher," Dino said once one of his men handed him a rocket launcher, "Guaranteed to blast you mooks into oblivion!" He held the launcher in his hands, and smirked. "Going 1,500! Do I hear 1, 500?!" Suddenly a gas pellet was thrown into the middle of the room, as gas escaped the capsule spreading around the men. "What the fuck?!" Dino exclaimed, just when he felt a sharp pain on his chest, then a gloved hand covering his mouth. Dino had looked down to see a katana stabbing him through the back and chest, just when he was dragged down into the mask.

"What's happening?" A short, bearded man asked, wielding an AK-47 before cocking it back. "Dude, it's probably that Bat freak in Gotham City!" One of them spoke, as Dino's right hand man, the one who handed Dino the rocket launcher snorted. Let's call this one Rocket. "Nah, why would that pointy-eared freak make his way into-" Rocket was about to finish his sentence when a grapple hook struck him into the right leg, as he screamed in pain before being dragged into the shadows. The other men who were attending the meeting found the urge to escape and drive away in the vans outside. Eight men were now trapped in the building, just when Rocket's hand was now seen by one goon. It was severed, as the goon looked around. "What the fuck is going on?!" He demanded just before a figure in black jumped down, and delivered a spin kick to the goon's head, then caught the attention of these men.

"Hello, boys," The figure said, revealing himself sporting a black gi and pants with black boots and gloves with padded armor installed onto it. He wore a black mask to hide his identity, with his eyes hidden by white slits. Yet his voice was disguised and covered by a demonic tone. "Now which one of you wants to take a shot of me now?" The figure then boosted toward the goons as one of them attempt to fire his handgun at the intruder, just before he was swiftly stopped with just a hand holding his trigger then the figure instantly made the goon shoot himself in the fucking head, dropping the body like it was nothing. He then delivered three shurikens into three other men who tried to run at him, as the figure then tilted his head towards the remaining three and removed his katana from the sheath behind his back. The figure in shadows stalked towards him, as he narrowed his eyes in anger towards them. The goons then dropped their guns, and tried to find a way to escape around the smoke, as well as their attacker. But then instantly, the figure threw the katana blade into the chest of the first goon, before impaling it in deeper with his foot with a jump kick then parried blows, punches, and knee jabs with the one who wielded the AK-47. _Mm, this idiot seems to be a good fighter. But then again….he doesn't know who he's dealing with._ The figure now had grabbed the arm of his opponent, dragging him down into an Hapkido arm lock, and broke it instantly as the goon screamed out loud in pain. The figure seemed to have enjoyed the moment, before sending a shuriken into his throat to end his miserable life.

"Now, as for you….." He growled in a menacing tone, striding towards the last goon. "I want you alive to tell the tale. You'll be able to tell the cops who stopped you punks. But...I also want a name….and who supplied you this shit." He pulled out his katana from the chest of the goon he impaled it with, now smirking under his mask.

"Who….who...who the fuck are you?!" The goon that was the last standing, backed into a wall, terrified as the figure stepped towards him, and impaled the blade into his arm as he heard a painful cry from his victim.

"The name's _Wraith,_ " The figure said as he twisted the blade into the goon's arm, making him scream. "And your pain is just beginning….so...about that name?"

 _(Well, that's it for today! You have it, the beginning of a vigilante in the making! If you're curious of what styles the Wraith fights in: He specializes in Hapkido, Jiu-Jitsu, Wing Chun, and several others. To the one who suggested Ra's al Ghul, King Kull, and Vandal Savage make an appearance, it probably won't be until my OC has a crossover with Batman or some other heroes. These types of interaction would be fun, it seems. Thank you, and don't forget to post your reviews! Until next time.)_


	3. Messenger From Hell

Chapter 3

 _Thank you so much for your patience, guys! It's been a crazy weekend, and this chapter will be short due to work schedule driving me crazy. The holidays are coming up, and I'm planning something special for you peeps! Stay tuned, and enjoy this chapter._

"What have we got?"

A middle-aged Caucasian man walked into the warehouse, that was now labeled a crime scene. He sported a black police captain uniform, with a Jitters coffee cup in his hand; his grey hair receding above his brow. "Nothing you want to see, sir," A young detective in his early 30s spoke. "Apparently, Martin's men had a meeting with some dealers. A weapons deal went south, dead bodies everywhere...it's a damn bloodbath."

This caused the Captain to shake his head, as he then motioned for some officers to show him the bodies. He saw a decapitated body, after moving away the sheets and groaned. "Looks like a hit to me, Matthews," The Captain deduced to the Detective, Aaron Matthews. "I want this kept under wraps. I don't want press getting wind of a mob war in my city. Is that understood?" Matthews simply nodded, as he saw the captain walk up to some CSIs to get further details of the scene. _Everytime I think I've seen it all, the universe has a funny way of proving me wrong. Damn shame,_ Matthews thought as he looked back at the bodies decapitated or mutiliated with throwing stars and blade marks. Matthews then went out, to take a smoke and process what the hell was happening in this city. From above the warehouse on a taller building, a shadow was watching. Satisfied with his work, Wraith glared down with a smirk under his mask before vanishing into the darkness.

Wraith simply jumped off the rooftop, now grappling onto a gargoyle perch from the clock tower, swinging his way towards the Martin estate. It was time for the vigilante to make his grand reveal to the crime boss, and let him know that this city wouldn't be cowering under fear any longer. "Blake, it's me." Wraith spoke into the comm near his ear, once he landed onto a tree in front of the gate, perching over a branch. The gate was guarded by two mobsters with 10MM pistols as the vigilante looked on with a scowl.

 _"Yes, Mister Wilson?"_

"I think I've found a way to get Martin's attention. It's a good thing that punk told me where his estate was, because I'd like to have a pointed conversation with him. Man to man." Wraith then pulled out a kunai, placing it into his hands, now forming a fist.

 _"If I may,"_ Blake began to advise the man he raised from his youth from the information hub at an undisclosed location. _"Must you be so brutal and cold with the criminals? This city needs hope, not a reason to feel fear."_

Wraith sighed, shaking his head. "Hope left me a long time ago, Blake. It's time I give what I can to the people of Empire City. As cheesy and gay as that sounded." He added, now jumping down as the guards were shocked by his presence. Before they had a chance to alarm Martin and the other men, Wraith cut their throats and performed a double jump kick to hit them into the ground. Looking on at the dead mobsters, Wraith went on his way to the gate, breaking the chains with just a pull. _"Sir, these men are heavily guarded. You wouldn't stand a chance,"_ Blake's voice rang into Wraith's ear as the vigilante silently swept behind a bush and used his kusarigama to cut off the legs of a mobster that was standing nearby during a smoke break. Wraith then pulled the now disabled punk into the bushes, delivering a blow to his face with a punch, leaving the criminal to bleed out. He then grappled onto the rooftop windows, not really wanting to take them all out. He just wanted to make sure there wasn't any witnesses to his uninvitation.

Entering the estate building, Wraith pulled out his katana walking down the hallway. "There must be others patrolling the estate, Martin's not stupid." He said to his friend via comm once he reached three guards that were talking then noticed the vigilante. '

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" One of the men exclaimed in shock, seeing the Wraith in front of him. "Hello, boys," Wraith greeted, "I've come to deliver a message."

"And what message is that?" The second guard, who was bigger in comparison to the three, sneered just when suddenly the Wraith jumped up into the ceiling, throwing a shriuken into the third one's face, killing him instantly before bouncing his foot into the first one.

"It's for your boss only. After all, I'm the messenger from hell." Wraith said using his kusarigama to swing it towards the big guard, as the other dodged the weapon only to pull out his hunting knife. Wraith gave the guard a death stare before using his weapon to lock the guard's weaponized arm into the chains, before pulling him back and wrapped the kusarigama chain around his torso, trapping the guard as Wraith struggled against his opponent's free arm to kill him with the kusarigama blade.

"You won't find the boss..." The guard managed to speak as he tried to pull away Wraith's blade, but Wraith kept pressing harder. Just when he was about to taunt the vigilante, the blade managed to deflect the guard's face and was stung into his chest. "I'll bet my inheritance on it," Wraith sarcastically replied once the mobster died from the blade in his chest.

Karl Martin woke up from his bed, rubbing his eyes as he heard the scream from one of his men; alerted, the crime boss pulled out his Glock from the dresser now rising out of bed. The blonde middle-aged man looked at the door, preparing for what was coming his way. Suddenly, the door opened to reveal a gas capsule was thrown into Martin's face, blinding the crime boss. "What the fuck is this shit?" He exclaimed, trying to find his way around the gas once a gloved hand had then pulled him in, and punched him hard in the face to render Martin unconscious.

Ten minutes later, Karl had woken up to find his was dangling outside his master bedroom from his 7-story estate mansion. "What is this?!" He demanded, yelling in fear. "Let me down! You know who I am!" He cried out into the night, wanting to know who was responsible for this. Suddenly the Wraith showed up behind the balcony, looking at Martin with a smile as he saw the crime lord was danging from the rooftop upside-down.

"You should be terrified, but then again: you thought you've seen worse. You haven't." Wraith said with a smile, glaring at the crime boss. He then pulled out a kunai, and grabbed the collar of Martin's pajamas to reel him in. "I have a message for you, Martin. This city is now under my protection. Any illegal act you proceed with, I'll be there. Every life you ruined, every soul you tainted, I'll be there too. I own this city, in many ways than you'll ever know. There will be no second chances. When the sun sets on the next day, I'll take away everything that was taken from the good people of Empire City," Wraith said now pulling Martin from the string that was holding his dangled body, and slammed him onto the balcony. "That's a promise. I'm coming for you."

With his piece said, Wraith then disappearing using a smoke capsule, now flying away with his grapple device into the night, leaving a seething Karl Martin with a mind to put a bounty on this vigilante's head. Bring it on, criminal scum.

 _There we have it. Chapter Four will be done as soon as possible. It's a pleasure writing, really. Give me your reviews. Tell me what you think, and what characters from the DC Universe should have an impact in my OC-verse. Thank you all so much, see you later!_


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